


Go Not Where I Cannot Follow

by Rainbow_Femme



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Just once you'd think something would well for these two in these fics of mine, M/M, kidnapping fic, patrochilles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Femme/pseuds/Rainbow_Femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A request I got from an anon on my tumblr: "Hi, I don't know if you take requests, but I love your writing so, so much. Could you write something maybe where Patroclus gets kidnapped and Achilles has to rescue him? Thanks and great job with your writing."<br/>So, this is Patroclus getting kidnapped and Achilles needing to rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Not Where I Cannot Follow

It was only a moment. To the last of his days and beyond, Achilles would swear it was only a moment. He had kept his eyes on Patroclus that entire battle, and every one before it. He had killed anyone who went near his lover, never let him out of his sight. It was only one moment that twenty men came at once thinking they could overtake him. He hated himself afterwards for enjoying it, hated the excitement of battling them all at once, the way his spear and sword sang through the air as sweetly as music from his fingers over his lyre. It was only when they were dead and their blood coated his weapons that he turned back with a grin and saw that Patroclus wasn't in his place. He turned, looking to see if he had moved somewhere else, somewhere he had been called to for help by another soldier. But he was nowhere. It wasn't that he had been injured either; He wasn't lying on the ground hurt or dying. He had simply vanished.

Achilles spun around, eyes searching for that bronze armor, those dark locks and beautiful wide eyes. He had to be  _somewhere_. He couldn't have just disappeared for gods sake!

There was a lull in the battle then and he noticed that the Trojans' greatest warriors were nowhere to be seen. Usually they weren't far from him; he and the other great Greeks were usually battling the best of the Trojans while the lower soldiers battled around them. But now, Hector and Sarpedon and all the others were lost from view for the first time. Mixed with losing sight of Patroclus, Achilles was terribly uneasy. 

Then all at once, like the reversing of the tides, the Trojans all fell back, heading back inside the gates of Troy far before they usually ended their battle. He felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder, one of Odysseus' men gasping for breath behind him.

"They... Have... Patroclus. They've taken him and a few others behind the wall, along with-" Achilles did not hear the end of the sentence or who else had been taken, he was already heading towards the walls of Troy, ready to bring blood and death upon those who had done this. He could not reach the wall before arms were restraining him, telling him that it was of no use now, they needed to all plan together what they were going to do next. He could hardly hear them beyond the roaring in his ears. Patroclus was in there, Patroclus was probably scared and had been taken from him and didn't know what was happening. Achilles had failed him, but he would not let it happen again. He would save Patroclus, there was not a man nor god on this earth or in heaven who could keep them apart.

\--

Patroclus didn't notice it when it happened. He had noticed the things happening before leading up to it, the way he and Achilles were being herded slowly in one direction, that a few others were being herded to the same place as well. He recognized them, recognized that they were special favorites of the other generals as well, even if they did not have the same relationship with their generals as he did with Achilles. Diomedes was not far from his left which was very strange for their battles. But he knew they had to be there for a reason, there was no way that they all happened to be pushed to the same area by the Trojans. He felt almost smug that he had noticed before Achilles had, that he could be the helpful one this time. He was about to call to Achilles, warn him that something seemed to be happening, when he felt a sword hilt hit his skull and the world went dark.

He awoke a moment on his back and he thought perhaps he had simply been left on the field after being hit on accident, but he noticed the distinct smell of wood beneath his nose and felt a rocking beneath his back. They seemed to be piled unconscious onto a cart. He forced his eyes open and looked around, noticing large stone walls rising on either side of them. Hector was walking alongside the cart, not looking at them. His heart seized. They were inside Troy. There would be no rescue now, no escape. The pain in his head took over and he fell mercifully back into darkness.

The next time he awoke, he was in a dungeon of sorts on a slab of rock that seemed to serve as a bed, the other soldiers around him groaning and stirring as well, or already blearily awake. 

"Where...?" He winced as he sat up, his head pounding.

"Hades." Came the reply from the other side of the room. Diomedes. "Or soon enough, anyway. No man laves the bowels of Troy." He looked pointedly at Patroclus then. "Not even the lover of Aristos Achiaon."

"We have only not entered Troy because we have not truly tried. Who's to say that all the greatest of the Greeks combined cannot find a way?"

"Why should they?" Came another voice. "Why risk it for us?"

"Are you kidding? Achilles won't be letting anything happen to his shadow."

Patroclus would admit that he felt embarrassed that everyone knew their business, but he also knew what they said was true. Achilles would stop at nothing until they were reunited again, be it this life or the afterlife.

\--

Back at camp, Achilles was inconsolable. He demanded to go to Troy that instant, storm the gates and kill anyone in their way. It took many hands and many voices to hold him back. Broken pots lay scattered in shattered shards around his feet.

"Why can I not go? I cannot be killed until Hector is dead, I am invincible to them."

"Because," Odysseus' voice cut harshly through the air. Diomedes had been taken in the raid on the battle field as well and he too trembled with rage. "Just because you cannot be killed does not mean the men they have taken cannot. If they have not already killed them they surely will when they see you storming the gates."

Achilles swallowed thickly. He had not thought of that, of them killing Patroclus to stop him. He could not risk it, he could not. Patroclus had to keep living, there could be no world without Patroclus in it. He could not see how the universe could bare to continue without his light to conduct it all.

"Then what do we do? We must get them out."

"We will, Pelides. We all have reason to go in there, none of us wishes to abandon them-"

"And that is exactly why we must!" Agamemnon came from the shadows then, eyes blazing. "They would only do this because they want us to go in. They want us to send in our best so that they may slaughter us all on their own ground! We have all lost someone we care dearly for today but we must accept them as already dead or we shall all perish alongside them and this war shall be for nothing."

Achilles was ready to strike the man where he stood but for once was beaten to it. Odysseus had drawn a dagger and within a moment was holding it to his throat.

"That man is greater to me than any brother; either we both love or we both die, but I will not leave him when I can save him. Fuck the Trojans if they think they can stop us."

The Greeks around them cheered. Ajax and Menelaus nodded along with him, both having lost top commanders they relied heavily on. Achilles felt great relief that he was not alone in this fight to save Patroclus. He was of the same mind as Odysseus; either both would live or both would die, he would not remain in a world where he had let Patroclus be harmed and had done nothing to stop it.

\--

Patroclus waited with the others for the Trojans to come. For the first hour, Diomedes raged that he'd kill every one of them with has bare hands if they so much as came near him. However, they could see from the window at the top of their cell that night was fast approaching, and no one seemed all that interested in torturing them or even giving them a stern talking to. Patroclus could not understand what they were doing there. Were the Trojans just trying to make the Greeks mad? Try to get them to attack within the walls? They would never-

Oh gods. They would. Achilles and Odysseus would at least, and Menelaus probably would, and Ajax wouldn't abandon his brother, and if everyone else was then Agamemnon wouldn't want to be left out. Patroclus was torn. He wanted Achilles to stay as far as possible, to go back home, to forget all about him and not risk his life trying to save him. But on the other hand, it wasn't just about him. There were a number of other men here that he had to think about, and he couldn't wish them to their deaths for Achilles.

He was almost happy that the decision wasn't his to make and he could only sit back and hope things went well and his precious Achilles would come out of this alright.

It was not until it was well into the next day that someone came. He and Diomedes were given clean tunics in the Trojan fashion and were taken to a large meeting room. He hoped Achilles would be there and he could soothe his fears, and he knew Diomedes hoped for Odysseus, and both visibly deflated when only Agamemnon and Ajax were there, though both looked angry enough. They were probably the only two who could be trusted to keep their heads after this second great kidnapping by the Trojans.

Priam sat at the head of the table beside Hector and Paris. Patroclus bristled at the sight of the man whose death would bring that of his lover.

"Are we to suppose that they too are here of their own will?" Agamemnon's voice was low and even but not lacking in malice. He seemed to be seething under the surface, furious that the Trojans would pull such a trick.

"No, on this occasion we must admit to purposely taking what is rightly yours, kings. You must admit, though, you are hard men to make meetings with. And as you can see, the soldiers you requested to see are being well taken care of, as are all those we have taken."

"To be fair, king Priam, it has only been one day. You could easily be planning to hurt them once we leave."

"We would not dream of it, king Agamemnon. We are always civil to those under our care. Now, we would like to negotiate-"

"Negotiate? You have stolen from us once again and wish for us to give you something for the efforts?"

"Well, obviously we have intentions of benefiting both sides in this deal-"

"We get back what is rightfully ours as well as giving up something that is also rightfully ours? I fail to see how this is fair for us." Agamemnon stood then, Ajax having not uttered a word. "We will get back those that belong to us, king. All of them. And the damage and life lost shall be on your head for once again breaking the rules of both war and decency." With that both kings left without another glance at him or Diomedes, who was looking rather pleased with everything so he must know something Patroclus didn't.

With that, they were lead back to their joint cell, Hector, Paris, and Priam speaking lowly among themselves.

\--

Achilles paced at the edge of camp, waiting for the news of what their next move would be. He looked up as he heard the messenger finally arriving, exclaiming that the kings were returning. By the time they entered the camp, all kings and princes had assembled and awaited their announcement. Odysseus stood first to speak.

"Firstly, how are they being treated? Have they been mistreated?" His face was impassive but his dark fingers dragged slowly across the table, venting his anger on the thick cloth.

Agamemnon set down his travel cloak and made himself comfortable before speaking. "Both prisoners seemed unharmed. They do not seem interested in hurting them at the moment. They are looking to extort from us and know we would not agree to anything if they were harmed. Not that we agreed anyway."

Achilles nodded impatiently, looking to Ajax. "And what did you find?"

He nodded solemnly. "They took them from the southern part of the palace, and our riders say there are windows at the tops of the towers. If we were able to just get there, I could break the bars enough for us to get a rope down for them to climb up. We believe they are trying to antagonize us into giving into their demands or an all out battle, so we should take them by surprise if we can sneak them out. The greatest problem will be getting past the archers."

Achilles nodded, ready to go now if he could. He would sleep another night without Patroclus in his arms, another night now knowing if his Philtatos lived or died. He would say his heart ached for him, but that would make it seem that every other part of him didn't ache as well. His very soul burned without the cooling presence of Patroclus. 

He need only wait until they found a way to that window. Once they did, he could save his Patroclus, and perhaps keep him back from battle for a while. He knew his gentle lover would not have any problem with that.

He pressed his face into Patroclus' pillow, breathing in deeply. He would be with Patroclus again. He would not live in a world without him.

\--

The Trojans were not as nice now that the Greeks had rejected their terms. Soon, soldiers began "forgetting" to feed them, or would hit anyone that spoke back with the hilt of their sword or the cuff of their armor. The pain in Patroclus' head would not go away and he struggled to keep his eyes focused on things in their small room. He had seen such things with other soldiers and knew that their medics knew how to help it, but that was something he could not remember, nor did he have anything he could use for medicinal purposes anyway.

He did what he could for the others, helping to pop back in dislocated shoulders or soothe pains as best he could, hoping it was helping at least a little. He did not want to, but admittedly he wondered when Achilles would come. He could not pretend that perhaps Achilles had chosen the safe route of leaving them all with the Trojans. Achilles was many things, but rational in the face of Patroclus being harmed was not one of those things.

\--

On the fourth night, they left. Achilles rode near the front with Odysseus, the only one close to understanding the pain he felt at the loss of Patroclus, the urgency within him to get him back as soon as possible. Outside the the southern wall, he was handed a handful of spears, launching each silently through the air, killing the few archers protecting the area. From that moment, they had perhaps minutes before they were discovered, so they moved quickly.

Achilles was sent to stand guard, away from the others. His hands itched for more Trojan blood, to kill any man who dared face him on this night.

"Shouldn't we try to get Helen while we're here too?" He looked over to two soldiers speaking lowly together as they helped him look out for Trojans. Above them, Ajax was slowly sawing away at the bars.

"If we got Helen now, we wouldn't be able to get all the treasure you idiot. I'm here for gold, I don't give a shit about some queen of a land I don't care about."

Achilles was about to tell them both to shut it before someone heard when the rope was dropped in and he could hear the soft scrabbling of feet against stone. He held his breath, waiting for Patroclus to emerge, only to see Diomedes. The rest quickly followed, but none were Patroclus. Had something happened? Had he been- No, he could not think that.

He grabbed the arm of one of the men as he jumped down, his hand like a vice on the mans soft flesh. "Where is Patroclus?" 

"He is carrying one of the men who cannot climb." He gestured to Ajax, who was pulling the rope up with a little resistance. Relief flooded him, but did not stay for more than a moment. Within the chamber he could hear a door being thrown open and the yelling of soldiers. Then, Patroclus crying out in pain.

"Patroclus!"

\--

It was the fourth night, at least he thought, when he heard the noise above them. He had lost track of when it was the day and when it was the night. His head would hurt him and he would often sleep to avoid the pain.

When he heard the noise, it was a strange grinding and scraping noise from far above their heads. It was dark but he could still see the gigantic outline of Ajax slowly carving away at one of the bars. They all cheered quietly for him as the first bar fell and he started on the next, already dropping a rope down for them to test before they needed to climb.

Diomedes began climbing before the last bar fell, already through the window as Ajax finished and moved aside, the others quickly following. Patroclus stayed down, helping one of their soldiers with a bad arm. When he failed three times to climb, he put the man on his back and began the grueling climb, his sore body screaming for relief from the pain. Ajax began pulling the rope up to help get them up, trying desperately to get them before anyone noticed. 

They were nearly half the way up when the door banged open and he could hear yelling beneath them. Ajax began pulling faster and he tried to climb as fast as he could but he felt the sharp pain of an arrow entering his thigh and he could not stop himself from crying out in pain.

"Patroclus!" The agonized cry came from below the window and his heart soared to know Achilles was so close. One mighty arm reached down and lifted the injured soldier from his back, and then the hand was back again and lifting him up, jerking the arrow out and tossing it back at the Trojan soldiers before dropping him roughly down to be caught by Menelaus then quickly handed off to Achilles, whose strong arms immediately wrapped around him and pulled him close onto his horse, keeping a firm hand against the wound in his thigh, dark blood oozing out. It hadn't hit an artery though, which meant he would not be bleeding out before they got back to camp. At least, he hoped.

Soldiers rode after them, throwing spears and shooting arrows when they could but they were clumsy with sleep and the darkness. Achilles kept one arm tightly around him, his face set firmly, anger emanating from him. Someone had hurt his Patroclus. Many Trojans would die the next day.

It was getting hard to keep his eyes open now. He had been trying to stay awake through his head pains for a while to help the others, but pain and exhaustion were setting in, but he couldn't sleep. Or rather, was not being allowed to sleep. Every time his head began to nod Achilles would shake his shoulder roughly and demand that he keep his eyes open.

When they finally reached camp the Trojans fell back, not wanting to cross the line of entering another camp. That was a line they would not yet go beyond, though they had proven they were not above breaking the rules of gentlemanly war.

Achilles drew their horse up harshly, lifting Patroclus into his arms and carrying him to the medical tent. He felt embarrassed to be carried around, but would admit that he probably could not walk, injured leg or not. Achilles set him on one of the beds waiting for them and called quickly for help, telling Machaon of his leg, Patroclus supplying his head injury as well. Achilles' face twisted in pain at the mention of another injury. As Machaon worked on him Achilles never left his side, keeping a hand on any part of him he could reach at all times, swallowing thickly and watching him, eyes never leaving his face as he cried out and groaned, his wound being cleaned, packed with herbs, and wrapped tightly. He was then given something for his head, which he guessed was mixed with a strong wine, and finally relaxed against Achilles as he was lost in the fog of being not in pain for the first time in four days. 

He was vaguely aware that the others were being brought in during this tikme, the soldier he helped was given a sling and a similar drought for the pain. He knew he was being held so very gently against a warm chest he knew so well, his head nested against a soft neck with a rapidly beating pulse against his cheek. Warm drops of water fell against his cheek and he wondered dimly if perhaps it had begun raining before he fell into a painless sleep.

When he awoke they were in their tent, what he had begun to think of as their home. He was still being cradled lovingly, warm hands running over him as if Achilles were trying to convince himself he was really there with him. It seemed like ages that he had been sleeping alone on those cold stone benches. 

He had been stripped of clothing, all of his wounds and bruises bared to Achilles, each caressed by trembling hands.

"Forgive me, Patroclus, it is all my fault, all of it. I should not have taken my eyes from you. I swear, you shall never be hurt again, I will not let you be taken from me again..."

He pressed closer to Achilles, wrapped an arm around his waist and rubbed at his hip soothingly. It was strange, he was the one who had been taken but it was Achilles who he felt needed the comforting. He had always been so assured that the one thing that was true over anything else was that he could and would protect Patroclus. And now, he did not even have that assurance.

He pressed his lips to the warmth at the base of the throat he loved so dearly.

"There is nothing to forgive."


End file.
